


Vegvísir

by Katthekitkat



Category: Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Norse Religion & Lore, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Blood, Blood and Gore, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Human/Monster Romance, Jötnar | Jotuns | Frost Giants (Norse Religion & Lore), M/M, Old Norse, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, References to Norse Religion & Lore, Violence, Werewolf/Human, Werewolves, monster/human
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-18
Updated: 2020-06-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:47:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24784876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katthekitkat/pseuds/Katthekitkat
Summary: Thor must come to terms with who he is and master the magic and power coursing through his veins or fear loosing control and putting those closest around him in danger.Along the way he meets a man like him who takes it upon himself to teach Thor, but he too has many challenges he must over come if he has any hope of teaching Thor.Watch as bond between unlikely friends strengthen as they are put to the test by Odin himself and face off against foes that should only belong in fairy tails.(I am horrible at summaries so please forgive as I try and make a better one).
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Male Character, Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Kudos: 2





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, Author here!  
> For the first part of this story a good buddy of mine helped edit, so a big thank you to her! I plan to keep this story going, no idea when it might end, but I thank anyone that jumps on board and comes along with me for the ride! Please note I am only human and mistakes happen and sometimes things go unnoticed. Just let me know kindly in the comments sections and I will do my best to rectify any issues.  
> This is a story I have been wanting to write for a long time. It's about two characters of mine that I hold near and dear to my heart. I am supper excited to share this with you all!  
> Normally I am just an artist, I draw and rarely write, so this is a new experience. But enough chit chat from me.  
> Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoy!

Snow fell silently through the night, coating the forest floor in a soft blanket of snow. No one stirred from their sleep. Everyone was wrapped in warm blankets with a false sense of safety when raiders from a clan in the far east came down on the sleeping village. No one knew the raiders were there until it was too late. Like ghosts they made their way inside warriors’ homes, silently slit their throats. They killed swiftly as the villagers slept peacefully unaware.

It was the piercing scream of a child that startled Thor awake. Just in time to see the weapon held high over the attacker’s head, priming himself for a deadly blow. Thor rolled away just as the ax was brought down where his head once was. Acting fast, Thor reached for the wooden handle and punched blindly at his attacker, landing a blow in the man’s hip, causing him to stagger back.

“The hel?!” Thor cursed, swinging his feet off the side of his bed and throwing his body forward.

Digging deep, lowering his body, Thor lunged and struck the man in the belly with a well placed shoulder, crashing together through the thin dividing wall separating the bedroom from the rest of the home. Thor pulled a fist back, landing a crushing blow to his would-be assailant’s nose. Thor stepped back to watch the blood bloom like a macabre rose. Blood pools of red and dark purple build under his flesh and flower out the wound like the layers of petals. No mortal could survive such brutality from Thor; those that somehow do very rarely live long after.

Content the attacker was dead, Thor grabbed his ax and stepped outside. What awaited him were the full horrors of what plagued the villager this night. Wearing nothing but a loincloth, the cold winds lapped at his burning flesh, blood rolling with fury through his veins. He felt nothing but the fires of anger. 

“THOR!” 

Alva, lifelong friend of Thor, ran to him from seemingly nowhere, in a similar state of dress; she had been awoken unexpectedly as well from her sleep. Her sword and shield were freshly stained with the blood and hair of enemies. Proof of the slaughter he had awoken to. 

“We are under attack,” Alva began, voice tight with emotion.

“I can clearly see that, woman,” Thor growled. 

The anger was not quite directed her way, despite being laced in his words. Thor hurried down towards the main town area. Towards the screams of children and women caught in the violence. Alva was not far behind.

As they ran, Alva explained, “They slew most of our warriors while they slept. We’re outmanned.”

“That explains the whoreson that tried to kill me.”

“But why are — ”

Alva was cut off by a man's battle cry, his sword held high as he charged the pair. She caught the blade with her shield while Thor buried his ax deep in the attacker’s shoulder. Down the ax went, almost splitting the attacker’s torso in two.

“We will talk after,” Thor huffed, being met with a nod of agreement from Alva. “Till then, stay safe and get the children and mothers to safety.” 

Alva darted off to carry out her duty. Thor watched for a moment but the direness of the situation quickly stole his focus back. Ragged screams for help drew the warrior to a burning hut. Wasting no time, Thor discards his ax outside and charges inside, ignoring the flames licking at his bare legs like hounds of fire. That mattered little to him.

“Over here!” He hears an old man cry out.

It takes little time for the warrior to find the humanoid figure in the flames. Honing in on the old man, Thor rushes to his aid, wary of growing flames. He needed to hurry. It was only a matter of time before the hut roof collapses —

Shaking hands clasp Thor’s wrists as the old man clings to him, face desperate and covered in soot. The look was a familiar one to Thor. He had seen it many times on the battlefield.

“The child first!” The elder man pleads. 

Only then does Thor see the small boy with blood stained onto his face, splayed on his back unconscious but alive. Pale but alive. How had he not seen the boy?

“The lad’s unconscious,” Thor notes aloud. “I need to free you so you can carry him to safety.”

“Y-yes.” The elder coughs on the smoke filling the hut. “Thank you.”

“Thank me later. Let’s get you free!” Thor barks.

The old man nods in understanding and helps Thor lift the beam up enough so he can slide free. It’s a struggle, with the weakness of the older man but the pair manages. Thor pushes the beam aside as the older man scrambles towards the unconscious boy, scooping him in his shaking arms.

There is a loud crack and a roar of intensity from the flames. Thor barks at the old man to run. Yet as he begins following the elder man to safety, barely clearing the hut’s interior, the warrior finds himself blindsided. The old man hears the commotions and turns to see Thor being wrestled to the ground by one of the raiders.

“Get out of here now! Run to the jarl’s home.” Thor yells to the old man. Thankfully, he listens.

Now Thor can focus on himself. He wrestles with his raider assailant, trying to find purchase, leverage, anything that will help him get the upper hand. A task easier said than done. Nothing about his attacker’s movements is trained. It’s wild, flailing and swinging like a beast backed into a corner. 

“Death calls for you!” The raider snarls, almost seeming to foam at the mouth, eyes wide and wild like a rabid animal. He was deranged!

“Not today she does not.” 

Thor grabs the man and kicks him off. He scrambles across the ground, seeking his ax among the snow. There! The blade glints in the fire light. Thor scrambles to his feet, fighting against the soft purchase of the powdered snow. He almost runs on his knees as he grabs the familiar wooden hilt. 

Just as Thor stands and turns, ready to continue the fight. There is a sharp pressure along his midsection. What he sees is the hilt of a jagged blade plunging into his belly. Thor gasps. The blade must have gone through him, right above the last rib. 

He staggers back when the blade is ripped from him and his life blood spills out of him. The fire in him starts to fade. It’s cold. Before him, the raider gives a wicked smile.

“Wrong. She calls for you  _ now _ .” 

The man gargles a laugh and stands to watch as Thor staggers, confused. It was difficult to remain standing. Frost seeped his bones, despite his attempts to burn it away. Light the fire of anger. Keep it burning, the way the hut burns. 

“But I see you do not go to her swiftly,” the deranged raider almost purrs. “Here, how ‘bout I help you.” 

He lifts his blade for another blow, and it all happens in slow motion for Thor. He watches the blade come high, dripping in his blood. The raider says something else, but Thor no longer hears him. All he hears is the soft breeze of Valhalla blowing through the fresh golden crops of Freyr.

“For Valhalla,” Thor whispers.

Thor lifts his axe, catching the man’s blade and, in one final push, buries the head of his ax deep in his opponent’s belly. Thor watches as he gasps and gargles on blood, dropping his jagged sword. Pulling the ax free from his guts Thor watches as he falls to the ground, intestines slipping out his body and steaming in the snow. Bloody, gruesome, and fitting for such a dog.

Rabid till his last breaths, the raider snarled at Thor in one last act of defiance before falling in his own gore. The ragged, desperate breaths fade as the man’s life extinguishes. Thor holds onto his ax as if it is his only lifeline, counting his steps as he staggers away from the scene.

On his tenth step, his knees buckle beneath him as he falls into the soft snow. Arms splayed out, hand still gripping his ax, he looks up to the stars above and laughs. A pathetic, wet sound. 

“I took more steps than you.” He mocks the god Thor in his final moments. 

For a moment, he swears he can hear the god laugh, but Thor knows that is just the hallucinations of a dead man. His eyes remain on the stars and slowly gives his body over to Death. She wraps her arms around him in a tender embrace, like a mother cradling her child. Slowly one by one everything begins to shut off. The last thing to go was his sight. With a single tear running down his face his last breath exited his lungs.

-

“Thor.”

Surrounded by nothing but an ocean of darkness, Thor can look down and see nothing but the rippling waters of black. It was as though he was trapped in the night sky without a single star to guide his way. An abyss of nothing. There was a certain peace to it.

“Thor.”

He hears his name and looks to find the source. Nothing. He sees only darkness and stars. 

“Thor.”

A third time and yet there is no one present. Only the darkness. He furrows a brow in confusion.

Thor tentatively calls out, “Hello?”

Nothing.

“Hello?” 

Thor looks around again. Still nothing. The faint licks of anger’s fire curl around his chest, then fade. 

“Where am I?” He asks out loud.

“You are dead.” It answers. The voice is both soft and overpowering. Worn like old leather and aged by many winters. 

“Yes but where am I?” Thor pushes, seeking answers.

“You are in my care as we prepare your body.”

“I don’t understand. Who is ‘we’? Who are  _ you _ ?” 

Thor swears he is a child again asking these questions. Even his voice is like it was when he was a boy. Yet the thought is a hardly idle one; it does not linger for long.

“I am Odin,” the voice says, almost amused. “And it is not your time to join us the gods in the halls of Valhalla.”

“You are mistaken,” Thor scoffs. “I died in battle.” 

Strange. He feels as though he is running.

“That may be, but I have more plans for you yet, boy.”

Thor feels himself begin to slip. It feels like he is falling backwards through the air. He tries to grab hold of anything but there is nothing to grasp.

“I don’t understand!” Thor cries out, his warrior death being ripped away from him.

“In time, my son, you will. Till then, live well, live strong, and grow into your role as guardian.”

Thor wakes to a scream. One being ripped out of his throat. He is awake. He is  _ alive _ ! And the world around him feels too heavy to be a dream.

Thor cries ‘no’ repeatedly beneath his breath, rolling over to his side. He searches himself and finds all evidence of injury gone. All that is left is an unbelievable rage, teeth pulsing with the need to rip and tear, fingers itching for the warmth of blood slick flesh. He can’t control it. Clutching at the snow for anything to ground him.

“My gods.” 

A raider rounds a burning hut just as Thor flips onto his hands and knees, howling into the snow. His body was wracked with pain. Sudden, unearthly pain. Pale skin growing tighter and tighter before ripping across his back in large tears. The raider, despite the opportunity before him, watches on in unbelievable fear.

Thor’s spine pops free from its cage of muscle, followed by the breaking and snapping of his arms and legs. Screams in agony fill the very air. Thor begs the gods to make it all go away. He begs them why; what has he done? He begs for mercy. His jaw breaks and elongates, teeth falling into the pool of blood beneath him, and down his throat, making him gag and vomit. Claws extend where there was once nails; the least painful part of the transformation. Thor suddenly finds himself surging up onto unfamiliar hind legs and rips his flesh free from his body. It was tight, painfully tight. There was a sick sense of relief, the raw muscle and bone exposed to the night air. Cold winds caressed the flowing blood, drying it, making each movement feel as though he was ripping new wounds all over his body.

Standing in piss soaked pants, quivering in fear, frozen to where he stands, Thor finally noticed the raider. He curls his lips at the man, skin and fur growing and stretching in mangy patches over his new body. The raider drops his weapon and acts to run away, he doesn’t make it a step. Thor crashes into the man hard enough to crush him. Fueled by rage Thor tore through the village, making a bloodbath of the raiders. He painted the worn stone paths with their blood and entrails. Ripping them apart. Crushing their skulls and making a mockery of their foolish attempts to fight back. Not once did his claws stray and attack his own peoples. No, he stood as a wall between them and the raiders. Their soul protector, their guardian.

Next thing he knows it after visions of blood and screams he is waking up in the forest naked, covered in blood and gore. He tries to stand but falls back into the snow, instinctively wrapping his arms around himself, knowing the snow should be cold, but for some reason he couldn’t feel it.

“The cold can no longer bother you.”

Thor whips his head around to look up at the man standing in front of him dressed in black furs, gold, and the finest tunic and pants coin can buy. He seemed to have come from nowhere. In all honesty, he might have been standing there for hours waiting for him to wake up.

“I take it your bindings were broken last night?” The man asks knowingly, turning to look at the smoke billowing up through the trees. 

“Who are and what are your businesses?” Thor tries to stand again but his legs protest and all he succeeds in doing is falling over back into the snow.

“I am here because I felt the snap of your bindings break. They echoed through the trees and awoken me from my sleep.” The stranger looks down at Thor with icy green eyes. He squats down so to look him in the eye, a smirk cracking across his face. “I take it you spoke with Odin?”

Thor pulled back from the man, straightening his back against the tree he used for support.

“Ah yes you did. He is a very busy man. I doubt he made any sense to you last night.”

Thor could not deny the man, but he couldn’t help but feel put off, taken aback by the sheer madness of the man. His eyes bore holes into him, his smile sent shivers through his spin.

“In other words, I am here to help you. To help you understand what and who you are.” The man stood and held a hand to Thor. “I will not hurt you. That I promise and swear to the gods.”

Thor takes a minute, still not wanting to believe any of this is happening, but if it is happening, he might as well hear the man out. Plus, if it came down to it, he knew he could probably kill the man with ease.

“Fine then. I’ll hear you out.” Thor takes the strangers hand and pulls himself up.

“First off, what happened last night will not be the last time you take the form of a beast. But I can promise you that will not hurt as badly. Instead it will become a smooth transition, almost like stepping into a second skin, like you are changing clothes, or putting on a fur coat.”

“I died.” Thor looks the mad in his eyes. “I was denied my seat in the feasting hall of Valhalla alongside my brothers.”

The man nods. “Yes. These magic binds that kept your true nature, your other half at bay, they can only be broken in death.”

“What do you mean?”

“The magic binds that held your true self at bay, they can only be broken in death. They are attached to your soul and the only way the gods can grab hold of your soul is if you die. Its an old magic that comes from the Jotunn. I too am like you.”

Thor looks at the man as though his head just sprouted wings and was now flying around in circles. “You are kidding me. You have got to be kidding me? This was just some warrior madness thing.”

“No. I am sorry.” The stranger bows his head. “If it makes you feel any better, I died when I was a child. My friends and I decided to take a shortcut back to our village. That meant crossing over a frozen river. Something we had done thousands of times. Long story short, my friends made it across, I fell through the ice and the current swept me away and I drowned.”

Thor bows his head and stares at his hands. It couldn’t have been just hours ago they were wolfish paws with hooked claws. Thor looks past his hands and finally examines his chest where a pink and red scar sat.

“I am dreaming.”

The man shakes his head. “No. I fear this is all too real and magic is far more real than you would like to believe.”

Thor backs away from the man, looking around to get a feel of where he was and how he will get out of there. “No, this is madness is all.”

“No. You are not human, and this is all too real.”

“Shut up.” Panic begins to set in.

“You must at least learn what you are. You are half Jotunn and half man.”

“I said shut up.”

“Your true self was sealed with the magic of your Jotunn parent, only to be broken in death.”

“I said shut up!” Thor roars, causing birds to fly up and away, sensing the growing danger. He reaches up and buries his hands in his matted hair and grips tight as his mind swims dizzily, trying to grasp onto anything but only finding slippery slopes. The events from last night, dying, turning into a giant beast, painting the streets with blood, now this crack who just happened to show up in the forest. It was all too much.

“All I want to do is help you. I am the only one that can.” The man slips his fur hide off and hands it to Thor. “Take this. That way you don’t scare your village when you return naked and still alive.”

Thor looks at the fur pelt being handed to him. He takes his hands out of his hair and contemplates refusing it, but he is in no shape to do so. He takes the fur and wraps it around his shoulders, the soft texture and warmth a needed distraction from the impending anxiety attack that threatened to take over.

“If you ever wish to learn about your heritage and how to use and control your power, you will find me on the furthest shores where the mountains way into a lake and sea meet. I live in a small fishing village there. Tell the guards you seek the one named Agmundr. They will bring you to me.” Agmundr backs away from Thor, turning to walk away.

“And if I don’t reach out to you?” Thor calls out.

Agmundr looks over his shoulder with a wicked toothy smirk and glowing eyes. “You will, be it consciously or not.” Agmundr stretches his shoulders, Thor’s only warning before the man suddenly turns into a wolfish beast.

Thor tripped over his own feet backing away in panic.

“Till next time.” The wolf's lips pulled up to show teeth the size of daggers, a beastly grin. Turning away Agmundr seemed to disappear into the forest around them. Melting from view as though he had just stepped through a doorway.

The sound of Thor’s breath echoed in the empty forest around him. No birds, no insects, nothing. Completely alone he screams into the void. Doubling over, catching himself on his knees, scream turning into a choked sob. Finally, alone with the weight of last night crashing on him like a tree. He sobs openly, letting the emotions run before thinking about heading home. He knew what waited for him there and it broke his heart.


	2. Chapter 2

The walk back to the village wasn’t long enough for Thor to absorb the information he was given or for his heart to harden. He still half believed he was dead. After everything that has happened, Thor believed with all his heart that this could not be reality. Magic, shapeshifters, jotunn heritage, Odin picking him, it all sounded like a pipe dream. But reality has one hell of a way to prove you wrong. 

Chest tightened like a vice grip around his heart upon seeing the smoke of dying fire reaching for the sky. Walking out of the tree line Thor held the fur pelt around him tighter as he carefully selected his next step. Stepping over bodies, through blood, around smoldering fires. It wasn't real.

Thor heads for his home first. It sat just outside of the village on top of a hill. It was secluded and remained untouched. He figures he will sneak around to his home, avoiding the people a moment longer so he might get dressed and have time to prepare his sanity.

\---

Thor heads to the Jarls home, a long house sitting above the village at the base of a large almost mountain-like rock formation. An imposing home built from the dark wood making up the forest around the village, iron accented the corners, windows, and protection sigils painted its walls. The fires didn’t reach the part of the village where it sat, leaving it and the few homes and buildings around it untouched.

Thor ducks his head through the door frame walking in. Towering over most of the villagers he was an imposing sight.

“Thor!”

Jumping, Thor startles from the sound of his name being yelled. He looks to find the source and he sees Alva, the short blond-haired warrior from earlier running to him through the crowd that formed inside the jarl's long-house.

Thor catches her and pulls her into a hug. “Alva, it is so good to see you well.” He sets her back down on her feet just as her husband comes walking out of the crowd.

“Brother, I feared we had lost you.” The man sighs happily, relief filling his tired eyes.

“Gorm.” Thor recognizes the man, sitting Alva down so he could clasp a hand over the man’s shoulder, his hand swallowing it up.

“Oh Thor, The last time I saw you, you almost sliced a man in half and sent me running to help the others.” Alva explains.

“Ay.” Thor nods. “After you were gone, I went to aid a man and his son. I was attacked. I feared I would not make it, but I pulled through.” Thor explains without going into too much detail, they didn’t need to know. “Once the fires have cooled and the bodies buried, we can share our stories then. Till then we have work to do.” Thor clasps a hand on the woman’s shoulder. Nodding to her husband. He knew they all had a lot to say, but Thor honestly couldn’t have that conversation so soon. Gorm and Alva seemed to understand and let it sit at that.

Walking together Gorm explains and catches Thor up on goings on that morning, “Some boys are already preparing a mass grave where we will dump and burn the bodies of the enemy. As for our own, we have started carting their remains to a burial mound. There the priest and priestess will prepare them for the ceremony that will take place tomorrow.”

Meanwhile Alva seemed to be discontent in her own skin. Like she was fighting herself to keep her mouth shut and failing at it.

“Thor.” Alva speaks, casting her blue eyes up at Thor’s own icy blue. The way she said his name had his hair standing on edge. He knew she couldn’t just let things be and not talk about last night. That just wasn’t Alva. Even her husband tensed. “Last night. Something happened and I just can’t stop thinking about it.”

“Alva, let the man be. He’s already expressed---”

“Gorm.” She silences her man. “Thor last night we should have all been slaughtered.”

Thor nods his head, “You are right, but we pulled through. We survived. We will honor the dead for their bravery and mourn their loss and will move past this.” He walks on, Gorm looking back at his wife apologetically.

Alva was far from okay with Thor’s readiness to move on, not talk about it but burry it. She runs in front of Thor and stops him, pushing him with her hands.

“Will you just stop!”

Gorm grabs Alva and tries to pull her back. “Alva, give the man some time.”

“No! Because I know why he doesn’t want to talk about it.” She spats at Gorm.

Having enough of Alva’s outburst and needing to talk about it Thor cuts his eyes down at hers, leaning down to look at her at eye level. “I know what happened last night. A blood bath that’s what. Over half of our warrior’s dead and even more villagers.” He waves his arm out gesturing at the bodies still scattered on the ground in sight. “I myself am still trying to comprehend last night. Now drop it.”

“ I just want to hear from you that last night wasn’t a dream.” Alva blurts. She holds onto his tunic to keep him from storming off. “Last night a beast, bigger than any bear I’ve ever seen came plowing through the village aiding our warriors and people. It was a beast sent by the gods.”

Thor removed her hands from his tunic and stood tall looking around. Paying more attention, he could see the mark of his claws left behind.

“The gods showed us mercy last night. Everyone is still in disbelief. I just wanted to hear it from you. To make sure we are not all mass dreaming.”

Even Gorm looked to Thor as though he sat on edge to hear what he had to say.

“I don’t remember much from last night. I got hit hard sometime through the attack and that’s it. I remember waking up to seeing half the village burned to ash and more bodies littering the ground than I have seen in all my years.” Thor knew Alva and Gorm looked up to him. He was only six years older than the two, but they grew up together and Thor watched them grow and learn beneath him. He couldn’t hate them for wanting to know how he felt and how he was handling it all. Alva looked as though she was ready to fall into pieces and Gorm looked ready to disappear in his mind.

“The gods—” Alva starts gazing up at the milky sky.

“Yes, the gods. We were caught by Hiemdall’s eye and the gods felt mercy for our people.” Thor reassures Alva. Caving and telling her what she wanted to hear. “The beast you told me about, it must have been some kind of guardian, something. It saved us all.”

“Thank you.” Alva is apologetic but she doesn’t express it in words. She heard what she wanted to hear. That it just wasn’t some beast that just so happened to be passing by. She believed in the gods and worshiped them with her every breath. It helped her cope with the events of last night. That the gods just weren’t going to let them all die.

Gorm clasps a hand on Alva’s shoulder, “Now, let us go and help our people recover.”

Thor agrees with Gorm and heads to work.

\---

The days move slow like rain heavy clouds on a still winter day. In the beginning it was easy for Thor to shelve his own selfish thoughts. Far too focused on the people around him. Helping them find their feet and rebuild from ash. It was no easy feat. Many days he watched good people hide away under their blankets or behind a bottle. He hates to admit it, but he’s even seen a man walk into the forest and never come back. No one said a word. No one went out looking for him. It was unspoken, but everyone knew what had been done. It was best to let him be.

It took days for the village to completely clean up after the destruction caused by the all-out war. Manny full moons graced their backs as they cleaned and rebuilt well into the night. New homes built to replace the ones burned. New barns and crops for farming. But it will take much longer to recover from the emotional torture it caused, but they all where on the road to recovery.

In the last days of the rebuild, winter was so cold and brutal it almost stopped the rebuilding all together. But despite the lashing cold and building snow, the people found hope in each other. Turning to each other for comfort and sleeping among each other. Even Thor found himself sharing the beds of people he never normally would have. More times than not, he found himself sleeping among the children. Acting as their guardian, watching over them as they slept. It helped them to rest easy knowing someone like him was watching their backs.

Far too soon the winter reached its peak and the rebuild had to be halted for their safety. The wolves in the forest grew closer, desperate for a meal, the snow even higher as the days numbered on. Making it impossible for anyone to safely collect materials. Thor retires to his own home. As much as he would have loved to stay with the people and wait out the rest of the winter with them, he had his own demons to work out. He knew it wasn’t safe keeping them tucked away. He also missed the comfort of his own home and bed. To sleep without the foot of a restless child kicking him in his side.

Laying in his bed for the first time in many days Thor finds it hard to shut off his mind. Turning his head, he looks at the rebuilt dividing wall, a beautiful black pelt hanging from it. He remembers back to when Alva and Gorm helped him fix his home. Alva found the pelt crumpled up in a corner, where Thor had tossed it after dressing. She admired it and fussed at Thor for being so cruel to something as luxurious as it. She would go on to beg him for where he acquired it. Not wanting to tell her the truth he shrugged and told her that he acquired the pelt when a trader couldn’t pay him in full with gold so tossed in the expensive pelt to cover the rest. He offered to let her have it, but she protested since it was to cover the gold he was not given. So now it hangs for him to stare at whenever he rolls over on restless nights.

Staring at the pelt he is forced to think back to that night. He shudders at the memory of the pain, the feeling of dying, then the overwhelming rage. He rolls on his back to look at his hands. Holding them above his head in the dark, he could see them where once he couldn’t. One of his many new gifts. The dark no longer hindered his sight.

Rotating his hands around he swears he could feel his nail beds heat with he ghostly feels of claws sitting heavy where his normal, human ones sat. The more he imagined the wolfish form, the more his body heated and the more the ghostly sensation took over.

The moment his teeth and face buzzed with hints of something nonhuman, he shoots up from the bed, throwing the blanks off. Incredibly hot, Thor ran outside to cool his burning skin in the snow. Hitting his knees and looking his skin over in the pale glow of the moon.

Thor sits in the cold and slows his breathing. The stars help to calm him. The way they shone against the velvet blackness of space. He turns to counting them, giving him something to slow his mind.

While Thor sat and meditated, his mind shut off to the world around him, coming to terms with everything that happened for the first time, he never noticed the pair of pale eyes watching from a distance.

The stranger watches Thor the entire time he kneeled outside his hut. The stranger looks him over and waits, waiting for anything to happen. When nothing happens and Thor finally goes inside, the stranger is forced to leave disappointed. 


	3. Chapter 3

Five years pass. The gruesome night in the past, but still a dark gouging cut in the village’s history.

Thor keeps busy, being the town’s only blacksmith and being the best smith and sought out by villages near and far that hear his name. It was easy for Thor to keep busy. Pounding away his hammer, shaping weapons, horseshoes, tools and many other things. As his reputation grew, so did his ego, and so did his need to keep pounding away.

One day a lithe squirmy looking man shows up on his front step with a list in hand taller than he. Thor, on guard, not too keen on strangers just showing up at his door alone, but curious, takes the list and reads it over. It is an impossible order.

“You’re fucking with me, right?” Thor’s mouth pulls up into a smile that read more along the lines of,  _ I’m about to hit you now. _

The man shakes his head, sending blond crusty locks flying around his head. “No sir! It is true. Look at the bottom and you will see his signature.”

Thor looks it over and again and the handwriting matches the signature. “Never knew a jarl to request such a long list of weapons and tools. What’s wrong with your blacksmith and the ones in the towns much closer?” He asks. Reading the paper over again he saw the jarls directions and what village to go to. Thor had heard of it before, even visited it once when he was a child. So, he knew very well how far away the village was and the risks that all parties would be taking if he agreed.

“Our blacksmith is old and grey. He mostly works on fishing tackle, farming equipment, and tools for ship building since we live on the coast.” The man, all too happy to talk continues, “We heard about your village's attack and since some odd years have passed and heard so much good about your skills, we just wanted to prepare ourselves and change out our more outdated weapons.” The flinches when Thor audibly growls at him. Hands on his chest he looks up at Thor though postured to run for it if need be. “We too were attacked like that. I be it years and years ago, but the threat is still there that it will happen again, and we just want to be prepared.”

Knowing the man was talking out of his ass, Thor rolls his eyes and pockets the list. “Tell ya what. Convince your jarl, king whatever te fuck he is to you to pay me at least a quarter of the number written on this paper and you all have yourselves a deal.”

The man smirks big and toothy walks away. Thor steps outside and looks around to see the man walking over to the most pathetic mule he’s ever seen and pulls a small bag off.

“Deal.” The man hands Thor the bag who looks inside immediately, more than pleased to see over a handful of gold and silver staring back at him.

“Deal.”

\---

Months later and the cusps of winter nipping at him, Thor cursed the day he made the deal. It was an impossible task that took up the entirety of his summer. The small quarter of the payment he was given had already been spent, mostly on materials to make the orders. But determined and more than a little prideful, he be damned he didn’t finish before the height of winter when the snow was so thick, travel was impossible. The ground was still soft from the summer when the first snow had fallen days ago and the stress of the order gnawed on the backs of his ankles.

Alva, on the other hand, made it a point to visit him and pull him away from his work from time to time. She worried about him; how reclusive he had begun. The raid changed everyone, but she wouldn’t have thought it to affect Thor like it had done. Alva would come to him and poke fun at him for staying away on top of his little hill with all his swords and hammers. Calling him ‘Heimdallr’ or ‘Eitri’ and ‘Brokkr’. On top of his little hill he could look down at the village and observe everyone, but instead of joining, he would slave away with a hammer in hand forging his weapons.

And this day is not like any other day.

“Morning Thor, how’s that hammer of yours swinging today?” Alva asks quickly, jumping into view right as Thor raises his hammer.

Thor jumped, missing his mark and sending his red-hot hammer to the ground, narrowly missing his foot. Shooting Alva a look he barked.

“Woman, don’t you know what that means?”

“Oh, why yes, I know all the double meanings, but I meant it in the literal sense.” The blond sets a basket of metals down on an old wooden work bench. “My man sent me up here to deliver these old horseshoes. Told me you might find use of them.”

Thor picks his hammer up off the ground and sets it in a bucket of water, making the water hiss and bubble on contact with the hot iron. He cleans his hands on the front of his pants and walks over to what Alva had brought him.

“Yeah, I might find some use of these.” He grumbles picking one up and turning it over in his hand. “Thank you, Alva.” He dips his head to her and goes back to stoke the flames and get back to work.

The woman scoffs, crossing her arms and leaning to one hip. “Thanks Alva.” She mocks his voice making a face. “How have you been Alva? Fuck you Alva.”

Thor cocks a brow at the woman making fun of him.

“Really Thor? That caught up in your work you can’t so much as have a little conversation with me, and don’t you dare ‘oh Alva’ me.” She adds the last part jabbing a finger at him, they have had this conversation a thousand times already.

Grunting he gives her a short answer. “Alva, I am almost done with an order and it needs to go before the snow falls so heavy it’s up to my waist. That’s it and I’m running out of days even though I still need till spring to get it done and I am pissed. Happy?” Growling he starts to carelessly rip supplies from their baskets and off the walls to throw in a pile near his workspace.

“I will not apologize.”

“And I don’t expect you to. But please woman, I need my space.”

Alva looked into his blue eyes and couldn’t say no. She knew his work was import, but she also knew he was stupid for taking the order and at least hopes he learned from the experience.

“Fine then. I see you are as fiery as the flames you shape metal with. When you are done, stop by for a visit. We miss ya you callosal redhead.”

Thor watches her leave and sighs. He hated it when his temper got the best of him, but the stress of the order was killing him. He knew he shouldn’t have taken it, but the coin, the promise of that much gold was too much for him to pass up. He could purchase new tools with that money, maybe even buy a pair of work horses to help transport his materials instead of borrowing a horse for a fee from the jarl.

\---

Thor completes what he has titled the ‘ _ Impossible order’, _ a boring name Alva tells him, before Winternights. Alva and Gorm catch him loading up his sledge, a special wooden sled designed to carry heavy loads over snow. Thor at first didn’t see the two coming up the hill. He was far too busy checking his list and counting the weapons and laying them just right and organized for safe travel.

Thor only notices them when his oxen bows her head and scuffs the ground with her hoof, making enough sound to pull him from his counting and sorting to see the pair stop next to the sled.

Greeting them with a smile, Thor walks closer to give Alva a hug and shakes Gorm's shoulder.

“I see you are all ready to leave brother.” Gorm is the first to speak up pointing at the array of weapons. “The coin must be worth it to make you leave and miss out of the feasting and drinking in celebration of Winternights.”

“You will be missed.” Alva smiles bittersweet. “I do wish you would wait till after.”

Thor couldn’t stand the way Alva looked at him. Her big blue eyes tilted up at him as though she was a kicked puppy he had wronged in some way. Her cursed Gorm who just stood there and let her do it.

“I know Alva, but once the festivities are through, the snow will be too thick for me to leave and return.”

Thor cups Alva’s face and presses his forehead to hers as she nods her head in understanding.

“Listen to the man.” Gorm finally stands up for Thor. “He knows well what he is doing. He has done this plenty of times before.”

Alva steps back from Thor and breaths. Even though she was younger, she had a naturally strong motherly instance that made it hard for her to let anyone she cared for go.

“I know. Just Skjold is such a long way away. It’s so near the ocean.” Alva was clearly stressed. Thor can remember her reaction when he first told her of where he would travel. Skjold, a relatively well-off fishing village on a lake that bled out into the ocean. Thor had seen the ocean before; was even offered to join a few men and go on a little adventure they would call it. See new lands and people. He turned it down, never being the type that fancied leaving his native lands.

Gorm on the other hand looked ready to join him if it wasn’t for his busted right leg. An accident caused when he fell from his horse and got trampled over. Alva will never let him live that down.

“Skjold is north west of the mountains, if I travel true there is a pass cutting through the valleys below that will give me safe passage. The hardest part of this whole trek will be keeping that cow from giving up on me.” Though he was cursing a storm earlier that morning about the trip, he feigned confidence. Deep down he worried. He had never been so far north, keeping himself in the south and doing most of his trade with other clans in the south. He only knew the way to Skjold from back when his old mentor brought him years ago. It was a gamble, a risk he was taking believing the old passages were still there and that he would recognize where to go.

If Alva could see through his lies, she chose not to acknowledge it. “You have my blessing Thor.”

“Don’t fear my love.” Gorm came up and hugged his wife from behind. “Just look at him. This is Thor we are talking about! I doubt anyone or thing would mess with him. He’s nearly as big as a troll and looks identical to the thunder god.” Gorm looks up at Thor grins in apology, “No offense”, knowing how well Thor hates being compared to the god he is named after. But Thor knew this was his way of calming Alva and keeping her from chaining Thor to where he stood.

Looking up at the almost afternoon sun Thor sighs. “Friends, it is time I get going.”

Alva broke away from her husband and swooped in to hug Thor tight enough to make him gasp. Gorm joined in second and Thor had to practically peel them off.

“You come back to us, you hear.” Gorm points, an air of seriousness in his dark brown eyes.

“Don’t worry old friend. I’ll be back.”

With a bittersweet goodbye behind his back, Thor finished with the last of his packing and bid farewell. He would be lying if he said he never felt any anxieties when heading out to somewhere new. He always felt twinge deep in his chest that tightened around his heart. He would never let the others see it. He was Thor, he wasn’t supposed to feel anxieties.


	4. Chapter 4

Thor walked for four days. He would rise with the sun and camp by the moon and stars. Walking through the forest and watching broad-leaved trees give way to pine lastly to open valley gorges that looked as though the thunder god himself made them. The sights where fantastic. Fall leaves shed, allowing the sun to pierce through making the snow glow and shine in its radiance. In the valley he felt like the snow was blinding him at times. The cloudless day casting its light into the icy snow which in turn sent its own little icy rays back up to his eyes. On his final day of walking he finally thought to take black coal from his dead fire and smear the black around his eyes, helping to protect them in some way other than letting his hair annoyingly sit in front of his eyes.

On his last day of walking Thor finds a trail marked by runes spelling out the little fishing village's name. Only little was a poor choice of words.

The village was large and surrounded by spruce trees and ferns that dared to take root. Beyond the trees protecting the village were a wooden gate four men tall and it stretched across protecting its vulnerable south. On the east and west sides of the village where large rocky outcroppings, like tiny mountains protecting its sides. To the north was brackish mostly ocean water lake. The way the village was built surrounded by such natural defenses, it funneled in any who traveled near to the front most imposing gate where guards stood at the ready.

“Greetings traveler.” An older man called down to Thor who stopped outside the gate looking up.

“Greetings.” Thor responded, dipping his head out of respect.

“We do not recognize you. State your purpose.”

“I am Thor Erlingson. I am a blacksmith with an order requested by your jarl.”

“Name sounds familiar.” The guard is curious and looks over the edge of his watch tower to try at a better look.

“I am the adopted son of Erling. He was a blacksmith from Skau. He has done business with your people in the past.” Thor explains and is pleased to see the older man’s face light up.

“Erling! I knew him well! He was my eldest cousin.” The man steps away from the side and calls to his men to open the gates.

Thor leads his oxen in and is met by a few guards who lead him all the way and close the doors behind him. Thor was curious as to why. He always thought Skjold to be a peaceful and welcoming village.

“You must have worked all summer on these.” The old man from before speaks coming behind the shipment and pulling a fur pelt back to gaze at the weapons below it.”

“Yes sir.” Short answers as always.

The man looked at Thor then at a few other guards who came to have a look. Thor knew the look in their eyes he knew he wasn’t going to like what the man had to say next.

“Our jarl made no such request for weapons to be made.” The man was clearly confused as to why some stranger would show up with so many weapons. With how the tides have been rolling in, Thor couldn’t blame them all for the sudden weariness.

Pulling out the request form written out on paper, Thor hands it over to the man and speaks, “I am afraid that I did get a request and was even paid a small fee upfront.”

The old man looks at the paper and his face sours. Pinching the bridge of his nose he groans. “Damn Agi. The Lokison is up to mischief.” The other guards all look at Thor Apologetically. A younger guard walks over and looks at the weapons and admires their beautiful craftsmanship for a moment.

“Okay.” The young guard speaks up. “I’ll fetch Agi and we can all see how this plays out. But it sours I know our blacksmith would pay for some of this and a few warriors might buy a couple weapons if the price is right.” Thor was visibly pissed but he couldn’t be mad at the man for trying to sooth him.

Thor watches the young guard run off to find this ‘Agi’ before turning to ask the old man. “Will I be allowed shelter for the night even if it turns out I will not be paid.”

“Yes. I know of more than a few people that will share their homes with you.” The old man was kind and the more Thor paid attention, so were other few guards that circled around to praise his craftsmanship and to even apologize for ‘Agi’.

“Thank you.” Thor dips his head again and breaths, allowing his blood to cool.

“Oh goody!”

Thor turns at the sound of hands clasping together. Seeing the young guard trailing behind a man dressed in the finest pelts, the finest tunic with gold embroidery around the neck and cuffs, pants that looked close to what a noble would wear, and jewelry decorating his body. The man breathed wealth. He looked more like an oddity than a Norse man.

“I see you have completed my order.” The man makes clear marching up to Thor and standing far too close for his comfort.

“Yes. Every sword, ax, arrow, you had asked for.” Thor bit the inside of his cheek as the man blatantly looked him over with a judgmental glance and moved on to look at the shipment.

Agi sways over to the sledge and pulls back all the pelts, tossing the furs on the ground in the slush made of half melting snow and mud. Thor bit his cheek harder, hard enough for the taste of copper to bloom out over his tongue. He could not believe the disrespect.

“Hmm.” Agi clicks his tongue, crosses his arms and cocks a hip. “I will bring them all to our blacksmith for examination.”

Blood vessel popping Thor all but snarls, “How’s a blacksmith that only works on fishing tackle and ship joints going to know anything about fine weapons?”

The way Agi turned on a heel and looked at Thor made his lungs stop working. The guards closest around them backed away as though so kind of fight might break out.

“Our blacksmith is half human half dwarf. Rumor has it he’s a distant relative of Eitri and Brokkr. He’s the best blacksmith that has ever walked the north and none so far has ever come close to surpassing him in skill. You name it, he can craft it.” Agi’s face cracks in a sickening smirk, Thor could practically hear the other man’s ego.

Thor looks to the guards who all agree and back up what Agi had to say, though they still clearly felt bad for Thor.

“Then why the fuck did you request such a gods forsaken order from me?” Thor is ready to knock his skull to the ground, only holding back knowing he wouldn’t get far if he just allowed his anger to take over.

“Pride. I heard your name being whispered around our people and I felt like putting your skills to the test. I couldn’t believe someone as simple as a human like yourself could out-smith our smith.” Agi reaches down and runs a hand over the weapons, selecting a sword to hold.

With no emotion to show, setting pride to the side, he simply asks, “What about my payment?”

The angular man walks around the sledge, running a hand over the weapons, a distant look in his brown eyes. For once during the entire interaction the man looked to be thinking.

“I will pay you.”

Cool air rushes out past Thor’s lips, relieved that one thing good would come from such an interaction.  _ I’m too old for all this. _ He’ll go on to think to himself, running a scared hand through his shaggy red locks.

“Baernhoft, I donate these weapons to the guard.” The old guard blinks at the sound of his name and the kindness Agi displayed.

“Thank you Agmundr.” He bows his head as Agmundr selects a plain sword and steps away.

Thor is too busy sputtering over the name, Agmundr, to realize Baernhoft was speaking to him.

“Thor”, Agmundr snaps him back from memory lane, an eyebrow cocked, “The guard wants to know if it's okay they take your oxen?”

Thor shakes his mind off the distant memory of the icy eyed, blue haired man of the same name, whom he had forgotten about till that very moment and nods yes.

“When you’re ready to leave you can find her and your sledge in the stables.” The old man points to some stables near where they stood. “No one will mess with what is yours.” He reassures and orders a few of his men to come with him to help the blacksmith unload and organize. Not like they had anything better to do.

“Thor, follow me. Your payment is back in my home.” Agmundr waves Thor to follow him and he does so readily.

Looking at Agmundr, Thor didn’t see the man he saw in the forest five years ago. This man had black raven hair, and brown eyes. He looked out of place with the northern people, but he wasn’t exactly an oddity. It only meant his mother or father was from lands far away where the most skilled of Vikings go to trade.

Agmundr could feel Thor’s eyes raking across his back. He wondered if Thor could recognize him despite the simple glamour he wore. It was just enough to hide the true colors of his hair and eyes. The village knew of Agmundr and what he was, so they never reacted if he wore a glamour or not. Some stare longer, some move out his way faster, that’s it.

“So, Thor, after I pay you, do you plan on staying for the night?” Agmundr starts, bringing him down around huts. The streets were full of bustling people getting ready for Winter Nights. The smells of food and different spices filled their noses. Thor felt his heart twinge knowing he would not be home for the festivities. Instead he would be camped in the forest eating dried meats by a dying fire, or if he could be convinced, maybe stay in Skjold and join in with them.

“Honestly I don’t know. Maybe camp overnight in the forest. Dust off my fur pelts you threw in the muddy slush and set up camp.”

“Passive aggressive, I like it.” Agmundr slowed his pace to walk beside Thor. “But to tell you the truth I did you a favor. Now you must get new pelts and furs for your little camping adventure.” He waggles his fingers and flicks his wrist up, suggesting he wasn’t fond of the camping idea.

Thor rolls his eyes and idly listens to Agmundr, making small talk till they reach his home. Thor knew it was his home because there was none like it and from the little time he had been around the man, he knew the man was one thing, not like any other. He had to stand out. From the way he dressed to how he gestured and spoke.

“Well come inside before the wind off the lake takes your life.” Agmundr walked instead to his long home. It wasn’t the biggest home he had seen, but it was one the nicest. The dark wood was beautiful against the backdrop of the lake and the towering stones around the back of the home. The front porch had bones made into chimes, around the door where a symphony on protection runes, hanging the walls were magnificent antlers, and a couple chairs sat on either side of the door.

Agmundr didn’t say anything as Thor took his time to look over everything, his wandering eyes catching on every detail. Agmundr smiled at the new, much younger look in the man’s eyes. He all but laughed when Thor finally walked inside and he audibly gasped.

Inside Thor had to crane his neck back to look upwards at the vaulted ceiling. It was left bare to expose the beam work above. In a practical sense it was a waist and should have been made into a loft, but Thor couldn’t care. He was too busy looking around blatantly. Dark grey wooden floors welcomed him in, benches along the walls were covered in the finest pelts and blankets. Along the walls hung silver, bronze, and gold-plated shields and weapons, all with their own works of art painted across them telling a story. Shrines to the gods cover an entire wall and bleed over to another. More skulls hung on the walls in a pattern, with more sigils pained around them. Thor didn’t know if he was walking into a witch’s home or a king’s. It was nothing compared to his little modest home. A simple two room dirt floor hut with pine wood walls with mud and grass filling the gaps and ceiling tall enough for him not to bump his head.

“Come have a seat by the hearth while I fetch you your coin.” Agmundr pointed to what looked like a seating and gathering place near the hearth. The hearth itself was modest, a simple shape with nothing decorating. Just grey rock plastered together to make a chimney for the smoke to be sent outside.

Thor felt wrong sitting on the furs. They looked more for show than for use. But he did as told and had a seat, watching Agmundr disappear behind a dividing wall into what had to be some kind of bedroom.

“Oh, Alva you would have a cow if you were seeing this.” Thor whispers, grinning as he looks around from where he sat.

“That's your wife?” Agmundr asks, walking out of the room with a leather bag with what Thor presumes to be filled with coins.

Not understanding how the other heard him but not hanging onto it he shakes his no.

“Alva is just a dear friend of mine. If she was here, she would have touched everything in this room twice and asked triple the amount of questions for every object.” Thor answers watching Agmundr take a seat next to him.

“Well then. Bring her next time. I might have an answer for all her questions.” Agmundr hands Thor the bag. “Count it if you like, but I promise I did not short you. I keep my word.”

Coin in hand, Thor had no reason to stay any longer. He felt the bag in his hand and stared at the fire a moment longer.

“If you will, show me to the guard? The one named Baernhoft if I am correct. He told me he could set me up somewhere to sleep for the night.”

Agmundr shakes his head. “No. You are my guest. I have room for you here.”

Thor stopped to think it over. Just moments ago, Agmundr was riling him up and him close to knocking his lights out. Now he was offering him a place to sleep. There had to be a catch. There always was.

Agmundr on the other hand could see Thor thinking it over. The brute of a man was easy to read. Like a book written with an extra large font.

“Trust me, it’s okay. Tonight is Winternights and the village is going to be alive with joy and food and music.” Agmundr smiles like it is a promise, brown eyes shimmering like they had done before, this time Thor got a better look and he couldn’t blame the sun. Maybe the fire then?

“Okay. It will only be for tonight. Soon as the sun breaks over the lake I’m gone.” Thor explains.

“How are you so sure of yourself?” That playful smirk is back on his face. “You might end up partying the night away with drink and beautiful women! You might end up staying two nights just to recover!”

Thor breaks himself free from his normal ridged self and chuckles. It was hard to remain so emotionless when Agmundr’s personality was so contagious.

“Thor.” He holds out a hand to Agmundr, the thought that he had yet to introduce himself to Agmundr.

It was Agmundr’s turn to be taken aback, even if just for a moment. He takes Thor’s hand and grins, “Agmundr.” The way he looks at Thor, with knowing eyes and a smile that hid a million questions, it was hel for Agmundr to stay silent and not spill. He wanted to word vomit in his lap and cross his fingers that everything went over well. But he knew better. Best to wait till after he had his fill of honey mead and belly full of rich food.

“Okay. I’ll stay with you for the night. But that is all. I wish not to overstay my welcome.” Thor explains sincerely. “Plus, I have others waiting for me back at home. This will be my first time missing Winternights festivities back in my home village since I was just a lad.”

“Worry not friend.” Agmundr claps a hand on Thor’s shoulder, “Tonight might just open your eyes and blow your mind.”

Not knowing if he should be afraid or laugh at that statement, Thor chose neither and turned his eyes back to the flames.


End file.
